August Rush 2008

Somehow I ended up in finance. Sitting here with seven other people hacking through ticker symbols and price/earnings rations wasn't what I always had in mind. What I ever had in mind. A far cry from Swift and Shelley, I am trudging through the sludge that is the twenty-first century financial market, looking for a way to pass a test I am not prepared for, get a raise, and get my name on a list of registered representatives. When I think of a list of names I think of two things: 1)Santa Claus; 2) St. Peter. Either way you look at it, it is judgement day. 

During our ten minute breaks I don't go sit outside and smoke, I indulge my caffeine addiction with Coke or Dr. Pepper, and my need to have something to chew on with Skittles. Taste the rainbow. The bathroom breaks get me through the day. I'm staying at the Embassy Suites and from 5:00-7:00 p.m. the managers host complimentary cocktails and chips, queso, and pico. After making friends with the bartender, an older gentleman who kindly makes me new drinks and is determined to help me find "my" drink, I decompress, watch the other happy hour guests and conquer "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" 

I'm not sure what I'm doing working for corporate America, aka "the man." I have yet to meet this man. I'm muddling through, wishing for the kind of focus I see in other people, or worse, read about in human-interest pieces on MSNBC. Some people have the career path mapped out, and some people are realizing they picked up a map for the wrong state, each looking for the toiling that will feed the mind, soul, and the much less idealistic pocketbook. The getting to that place isn't always easy, but knowing where you want to be seems like a nice idea. 

Regardless, it is day five and I'm attempting to wrap my already jam-packed brain around variable annuities. I don't hate my job. I have hated a job before, and this is not it. I hardly understand my job, so I'm not sure I can hate it at this point. Their are ridiculous amounts of paperwork: sign here, sign this for your other signature here, sign this too...no, there is no reason, we just need you to sign. Delusions of corporate financial grandeur are possible, but I'm not really the type.